


Olympic Tryouts (part 24)

by jennamacaroni



Series: Olympic Tryouts [24]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 12:10:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2580959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennamacaroni/pseuds/jennamacaroni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana and Brittany have been rivals in the college hockey world for the past four years.  now they’re both at Olympic tryouts to play on the same team and Boston and Minnesota just don’t get along, okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olympic Tryouts (part 24)

**Author's Note:**

> stupid idiot hockey players and their stupid first date giving me so many stupid feels.
> 
> thank you so much to everyone who likes/reblogs/flails with me over this story, you guys have no idea how much it means to me. don’t stop being your wonderful selves, okay? warning: this chapter is the sappiest thing of life.

“Whose truck is this?” Santana asks, settling into the passenger seat and scooching across the single-seat cab to press into Brittany’s side as she turns the key, bringing the old beat up truck to life.

“Coach’s,” she answers nonchalantly, wrapping an arm around Santana’s shoulder and smiling into a kiss.

“He lent you his car?!” Santana asks, rather incredulous. “How’d you swing that?”

“I told him I needed to take you out on a date, duh.”

“You _what?!_ ” Santana yelps, straightening up and smacking Brittany in the arm.

“Ow,” she whines, pouting. “I was just kidding! It’s the car Tina’s been using. Her uncles? Or her grandfathers? I can’t remember. Either way, it’s ours for the night. Ready?” she asks, reaching to put the old truck into gear.

“Almost,” Santana says, reaching for the collar of Brittany’s shirt and tugging her in for a kiss.

_____

The entire ride, Santana can’t help but look sideways every so often at Brittany. How she keeps one hand on the shifter and the other draped over the steering wheel at twelve o’clock. How when they’re not talking, she sings along to nearly every song on the radio, recklessly flipping through the presets when she lands on a song she doesn’t like. She catches Santana after stolen glance number three and they grin stupidly at each other. “You’re pretty,” Brittany comments, her eyes back on the road.

“So are you.” Santana flushes. “Tell me something.”

“What kind of something?” Brittany asks, smirking.

“Anything,” Santana shrugs. “What’s your favorite book?”

“Harry Potter. All of them.”

“And if you had to pick one and only one to read forever it would be-”

“First of all, that’s rude. Second of all, Deathly Hallows. You?”

“Same. Favorite character?”

Brittany’s brow crinkles adorably as she thinks, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “Hermione,” she affirms, pausing. “Or Dumbledore. Or McGonagall. Or book Ginny. Movie Ginny drove me crazy because WHERE was that awesome maneater bad bitch from the books, you know? And don’t even get me going on the replacement Dumbledore, RIP, Richard Harris,” she grumbles, crossing herself and pointing a finger to the sky. When her hand returns to the shifting column, Santana reaches for it, interlocking their fingers and squeezing.

“DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THAT GOBLET?” Brittany screams, squeezing back. “Dumbledore would never say it like that, ugh.” She continues grumbling for a few seconds longer until the next top 40 hit comes on the radio and she’s back to singing.

_____

When they finally turn off the road into a large dirt lot and Santana realizes where they are, she turns to playfully punch Brittany in the arm.

“Ow! Stop hitting me!”

“And here I thought we’d be stuck sitting in a dark movie theater, you sneak.”

“What? I can’t give away all my secrets, don’t you like a little mystery?” she teases, winking and backing up the truck into the space so the bed is pointed towards the towering movie screen. “Drive in movies are the best. Plus guess what they’re playing?”

“What?” Santana asks, craning her neck to see if it’s posted anywhere.

“The Mighty Ducks!” Brittany squeals, clapping like a happy seal and bouncing up and down in her seat before springing out of the truck and jogging around to beat Santana to opening the passenger door. She offers a hand to help her get out and Santana’s stomach does that swooping thing again as she grabs it and hops to the dirt.

Brittany leads her around to the back of the truck and climbs in, beginning to rearrange a large heap of blankets around to cover the truck bed. When she pulls out the last blanket and uncovers a full-to-the-brim picnic basket, Santana can’t stop herself from climbing in and pushing Brittany down among the blankets, pinning her with her whole weight. They smile widely at each other, their noses nearly touching before Santana speaks. “You made us a picnic?”

“I did, yeah,” Brittany exhales, continuing to stare unabashedly into Santana’s eyes. Santana can’t think of anything else to say, so she closes the small gap between them to press their lips together softly, Brittany’s arms snaking around to hug her closer.

_____

“Wine and cheese? You are one classy broad, Brittany Pierce.”

“Nothing but the best for the United States’ most famous female hockey player,” Brittany replies, cutting slices from a fourth block of cheese and spreading them out on a tiny slate cutting board. 

“Are you kidding me? You’re definitely the more pop-”

“Shut it and listen. You’ve got your soft cheeses down here, that’ll be your goat here and brie,” she explains, pointing to different parts of the board. “Then we move onto semi-firm so you’ve got a melt-in-your-mouth white cheddar and some gruyere. And last but not least your hard cheese down at this end with a killer nutty parmesan. We’ve also got some honey, walnuts and pickled veggies to mix things up. And then of course the bread and crackers. Sourdough because duh.”

“Duh,” Santana agrees, slipping an arm around Brittany’s waist and pressing into her side. She kisses her cheek quickly just because.

“Make yourself useful and open the wine, would ya?” Santana reaches for the opener and bottle, shaking her head at how lucky and silly with happiness she feels. Best first date ever and it’s barely begun.

____

Halfway through the movie, they’ve finished eating the sandwiches Brittany packed and are already three-quarters through the bottle of wine and cuddled up together against the truck cab, passing the bottle back and forth. All the pillows are propped up behind Santana as Brittany lies half on top of her, absently drawing shapes with a finger on Santana’s thigh under the blanket while Santana runs her fingers through long blonde hair over and over.

“I had the biggest crush on Charlie when I was a kid,” Brittany confesses as they both watch the movie.

“I didn’t have a crush, I just wanted to be him. That should have been clue number one for my sexuality, huh?” Santana jokes. “I always had a thing for Julie the Cat.”

“Well she was a complete badass, so I can’t say I blame you.” Brittany turns to put a chin against Santana’s sternum and looks up at her through long lashes. “I think I practiced the triple-deke in my yard over and over and over for months when I saw this movie for the first time. And whenever I scored on it, I’d do this elaborate celebration throwing my stick and gloves up into the air like I’d just scored the game-winner in the Olympics and my mom would haul me up on her shoulders and cheer like the crowd was going wild.” Brittany gets that same faraway and longing look that always means she’s missing her mom, so Santana pulls one of her hands free and presses a kiss to Brittany’s palm.

“Let’s make that game-winning goal dream come true, huh?” Santana’s tone is playful but she means it more as a promise.

_____

When the movie ends and the lot begins to clear out, Brittany and Santana are wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito, completely entwined in one another. Santana has her head tucked in under Brittany’s chin and is content to just lay there and listen to her steady breathing.

“I don’t want this to end,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss to the underside of Brittany’s chin.

“Well good thing I paid the guy twenty bucks to let us stay for awhile.” Brittany smirks as she kisses Santana’s hairline. “Hey, look up.” Brittany loosens her grip as Santana turns her head skyward and lets out a tiny gasp. The cloudless sky is an endless sea of jet black night from one edge of the horizon to the other, but tens of thousands of stars burn and twinkle like incandescent freckles.

“We don’t get stars like this in Boston, stupid light pollution. It’s incredible, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many out at one time.”

“This is what home looks like for me,” Brittany whispers, her throat thick. “See that?” she asks, pointing to a line of the three brightest stars above them.

“Yeah. What’s up there?”

“Orion’s belt. He couldn’t feed the scorpion, so he jumped into the sea. And then Artimus put him up into the sky so the scorpion couldn’t get to him. Although there’s another story that Orion boasted he could kill all the animals, but in their battle, the scorpion killed him, and Zeus put Orion up into the sky as an example of what happens if you’re too boastful.”

“I like the first story better.”

“Me too.”

“Hey, Santana?”

“Yeah, Britt?”

“What do you want most in this world?”

Santana pauses for a few moments, thinking. “I used to think it was a gold medal, but sometimes that doesn’t feel so important, you know? I don’t know. To feel like I’ve found my place in this world, to feel happy and proud of this life I have.”

“Yeah,” Brittany breathes. “Me too.”

As a shooting star flashes across the sky, Santana presses her eyes together and makes a very important wish.


End file.
